


Flood

by Amity33



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amity33/pseuds/Amity33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus/Dorian pairing. Can't really say any more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters of 'From Eroica with Love' belong to Aoike Yasuko-sensei and their rightful copyright holders. I do not claim to own any of these characters. No profit is made out of this story.
> 
> Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a fanfiction story. To be honest, I never thought I'd write something like that, but I was completely taken by this manga and somehow I was inspired to write this story. Thank you for reading, and I look forward to your reviews.

FLOOD

 

Chapter 1 – Insomnia 

Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was in the gymnasium of Schloss Eberbach, finishing his evening workout. He had flown 

home from a mission that very morning, and had spent the entire day at the office debriefing, but still would not omit this 

daily routine. He knew well that the more exhausted he was, the less annoying thoughts would come between him and his 

sleep, and lately there had been no shortage of them.

As soon as the last set of sit-ups was completed, he walked briskly to the adjacent bathroom to take a shower. He undressed 

and tossed his sweaty tracksuit and underwear into the hamper, and then, oddly enough, proceeded to fasten a chain and 

padlock around it, locking it securely with a key he had around his neck, before finally stepping into the shower. Now, 

most people don’t find it necessary to put their dirty laundry under lock and key; but then again most people are not 

plagued by foppish expert thieves entertaining all kinds of dirty notions about them and their underwear. After a 

particularly infuriating incident three years ago, involving a pair of his briefs and a certain foppish thief he would like 

very much to strangle, the Major had put chains and padlocks around every hamper in the Schloss likely to contain any of 

his personal clothing. Not that a padlock could possibly stop that damned pest of a faggot who could crack open a vault in 

his sleep, but at least he was making a point of prohibiting access to his clothes – and especially the most private ones.  
The shower water stopped running and seconds later the Major emerged, wrapping an enormous bath towel around himself the 

instant he got out. He could never tolerate showing skin, even when there was no one to see it. Not that there was anything 

about his appearance he should be ashamed of, quite the opposite. With his shoulder-length silky raven hair, emerald-green 

eyes, clear-cut handsome features, and to top everything off, 1.85m. worth of lean, supply muscular body, he was as fine a 

specimen of manhood as one could hope to find. Every woman in the world would be lusting after him, if not for the 

expression of those green eyes, colder than the Arctic ocean and less inviting than Guantanamo prison.

He marched straight to his austere bedroom, changed into his pajamas and laid down to sleep. But sleep stubbornly refused 

to come; not even ‘Mary had a little lamb’ worked on him tonight. He must still be tense after the mission, he concluded. 

It had not been especially difficult, but Eroica had been there, and lately he found working alongside Eroica increasingly 

taxing on his nerves.

_Eroica…_

Klaus cast his mind back to his first meeting with this exasperating individual. Things had been really simple back then. 

They hated each other’s guts, and that was it. And that’s how it _should_ have remained, except that, after a string of 

fateful encounters – if Klaus was not an atheist, he would have called them divine punishment – the fop had done a complete 

turnabout and fallen in love with him, of all people. Since then, he had never been free of his pursuit. Eroica had set him 

in his sights and was chasing him from year’s end to year’s end, showing no sign of even beginning to be discouraged, let 

alone giving up. 

And boy, had he tried to discourage him. There was not one dirty trick in the book he had not resorted to some time or 

other in order to shake him off. But nothing had worked. His verbal abuses were reciprocated with fond pet names and 

declarations of love (so much for the notion that queers were sensitive and easily hurt; this particular queer had taken 

his abuse in more stride than most, if not all, straight men he knew). Physical violence had fared no better; everyone else 

would cower and shake before his towering rage, but Eroica took his blows with his head held high, openly defying him. He 

probably was afraid of Klaus at such dangerous moments, but refused to let his fear get the better of him. It was 

impossible not to respect his attitude, and consequently it was impossible not to despise himself for losing control and 

yielding to his violent nature those few times he actually hurt Eroica. And then his guilt would make him treat the faggot 

just a little nicer, and the depraved idiot would get encouraged and more determined than ever.

He had tried lots of other things as well. Tricking him; lying to him; sending him on wild goose chases; shamelessly 

exploiting his passion for art and beauty; equally shamelessly taking advantage of his feelings in order to attain his 

mission objectives. He had shown him his worst sides, while hiding his best ones as much as he could, hoping that the thief 

would eventually be sick of him and disappear from his life. But to no avail.

On the contrary, the more Dorian got to know him, the more he idolized him, and the harder he tried to get close to him. He 

had even managed to establish himself as his unofficial working partner. Since it was well known that Eroica would only 

work with him, the Chief, sadistic bastard that he was, usually reserved him for missions that required the thief’s talent 

for breaking and entering. Which meant that they saw quite a lot of each other these last few years. And while Klaus’ harsh 

attitude towards Eroica had not softened down one bit, lately he had realized, to his utmost horror, that whenever he found 

it necessary to fend off the Earl’s excessive flirtations with insults and threats, he did not feel the proper rightful 

indignation he was supposed to be feeling. Instead, he felt…kind of disgusted. _With himself._

Not even he knew when it was that his pure, unadulterated hatred for Lord Gloria had been contaminated by other, more 

disturbing feelings. By the time he realized it, the change had set in and there was no denying it. First off, the damnable 

thief had succeeded in earning his respect. Indeed, that was pretty inevitable. Surrounded by incompetent colleagues as he 

was, it was impossible not to feel the difference of a man whose efficiency and professionalism was on par with his own. 

His line of work might be illegal, and the man himself insufferable, but there was no questioning his capability and 

courage. He would die before admitting it to the fop, but he _knew_ that Dorian was a man he could trust with his life…

although not with his chastity.

Then there was gratitude. Granted, the crazy queer had messed with him and his missions innumerable times; but he had also 

helped him out so many times when he was in a pinch, completely disregarding his own safety and never asking for anything 

in return. He would have to be inhuman to not feel even a little grateful. And while he took great pains not to let the 

Earl discern his feelings, sometimes the iron mask simply could not hold. Like that time on the Austrian border, when 

Dorian voluntarily went and took a beating from that KGB agent in order to steal the microfilm Klaus could no longer get 

his hands on. He would never forget that feeling of acute, painful guilt that swept through him as he watched helplessly 

that beautiful face getting beaten black and blue for _his_ sake. He had said to the injured Dorian afterwards, “I cannot get 

angry with you right now. Don’t make me…please”. Not much for an expression of gratitude normally, but for someone like 

Iron Klaus it was tantamount to the sweetest words, and Eroica knew it.

He was also quite envious of the Earl’s free spirit and complete disregard of what people thought of him. Committed to what 

he regarded as his duty though he was, Klaus did have a rebellious streak in him; that streak was probably behind the fact 

that he insisted on completing his missions the way he saw fit, never giving a rat’s ass about his superiors’ opinion – 

especially that fat pervert Chief. It was probably also responsible for him never hesitating to tell said Chief and others 

of his superiors exactly what he thought of them, the end result being that he remained stuck to the rank of Major despite 

his unprecedented record of successful missions. And it undoubtedly had something to do with his stubborn resistance to his 

father’s nagging to get married. But despite those small revolts, the fact remained that he was not allowed to do his job 

or live his life the way he wanted. To some degree, this might be for the best – he was aware of the fact that, without his 

self-discipline and sense of duty, he would be a downright dangerous man. But no matter how hard he tried to condemn Lord 

Gloria’s self-indulgence as immoral, quite a few times he had caught himself wishing he could be as self-indulgent for 

once.

But the most alarming feeling of them all was – desire. It’s not like Klaus didn’t have a sex drive. But he had been raised 

by a narrow-minded, strict disciplinarian of a father and educated exclusively in all-boys schools run by nuns. Inevitably, 

he had learnt from a very young age to regard sexual desire as a weakness and a sin, unbefitting of a proper man. So he had 

unconsciously buried his desires deep inside him, repressing them so much that he had practically convinced himself that he 

should never – and would never – need sex in his life. Even more so, he had become pretty oblivious to it. The women he had 

met so far – mostly prospective brides his father forced him to meet – might as well be from another planet. They left him 

completely unaffected. He did not feel any inclination whatsoever to get to know them, let alone be intimate with them. The 

fact that he worked as an intelligence agent made things even worse. Suspecting anyone and everyone of being a spy – and 

being very often right about it – made his relations with the opposite sex even more problematic. And of course, 

homosexuality was out of the question; it was the height of depravity, the worst offence imaginable for a soldier and a 

man.

Klaus thought he would adhere to these beliefs for the rest of his life, and he might have done just that, if not for Lord 

Gloria. The Earl had accomplished what no woman had been able to – he had made the Major start thinking about sex. Well, 

that wasn’t entirely surprising. The man was a walking, breathing sex advertisement. Not only he was so beautiful it was 

almost a sin to look at him, he flaunted his sexual desires before Klaus without the least bit of shame. At first, his lewd 

glances and sexual insinuations only made Klaus furious; but after a long while of hearing the Earl describing various 

indecent things he wanted to do with him, his imagination started having a mind of its own, and he found himself picturing 

the Earl’s sexual fantasies in his own mind. Needless to say, this realization caused him more panic than any international 

crisis could have. He redoubled his efforts to drive Eroica away from him, but failed miserably. He even tried to pursue 

relationships with women on his own, only to confirm what he suspected and feared all along; that they didn’t stir the 

slightest emotion in him. It seemed that his newly-awoken sex drive was kind of picky: no one but Dorian could get an 

arousal out of him. 

However, he chose to never act on those feelings. There were plenty of excuses for his decision. He was an army officer, 

and homosexuality was not tolerated in the army. He was a man of law and order, and Eroica was an infamous international 

thief, a wanted criminal. He was the current head of the von dem Eberbach family, and had a duty to get married and have a 

son, to carry on the family line. Last but certainly not least, he was a man of commitment, while the Earl was the most 

flippant and superficial of men. He could be chasing him around just to indulge his whim, not out of real love.  
Plenty of excuses indeed. Problem was, over time they had been proven to be just that: excuses.  
For instance, the army had softened down a lot in regards to homosexuality. Even if he was found out to be gay, there 

probably wouldn’t be any consequences, as long as he was discreet about it. What with all the fuss about the rights of 

homosexuals, nowadays the high command mostly chose to look the other way, rather than risking an uproar that would bring 

bad publicity. And he was an extremely experienced and capable agent; NATO Intelligence would not dispose someone with his 

extensive knowledge and ability over something like that. At most, he would not get any more promotions. So what. That 

might happen either way, considering his short temper, and besides if he was promoted he would probably have to forfeit 

field work. Eternal Major on the line of duty was a million times better than fat General stuck behind a desk.  
Eroica was still a wanted criminal, but only technically. After having worked on so many NATO assignments, he had learnt 

quite a lot about the international espionage world, despite the fact he wasn’t really interested. In fact, he knew way too 

much for NATO to risk losing his allegiance. Therefore, he was still officially wanted by the Interpol, but there was a 

tacit agreement between Interpol and NATO that he would never be actually caught. The Major had had nothing to do with 

this; it was a common policy NATO employed with outlaws hired for their services. A community service of sorts. The end 

result was, that even if Eroica decided to waltz into Interpol Headquarters for a cup of tea, he would probably be home 

again in time for dinner.

As for Klaus’ duty to get married and have children…well, that was one duty he didn’t think he could ever fulfill. Maybe 

his own grim childhood had something to do with it, but he had never felt the slightest inclination to have children. As 

for marrying, he had never met a woman he was even remotely interested in. And he would _never_ do something so obscene as 

tie himself to a woman who would be only after his rank and fortune. Or, even worse, to a woman who would love him and 

would never be loved back. He had, after all, plenty of cousins and nephews who could carry on the von dem Eberbach name; 

he could always pick an heir among them. True, that meant giving up his residence at the Schloss, as well as the greater 

part of his fortune, but Klaus had never been hung up on money anyway, nor did he necessarily need a castle to live in. His 

flat in Bonn was enough for him. The Schloss was the home he had grown up in and he was fond of it, but also a bit of a 

pain to manage, and it wasn’t like he would never be allowed to visit if he felt like it. His father would probably have a 

stroke if he knew his thoughts on the matter, but in the end there was nothing he could do to stop him from doing whatever 

he wanted; he was an adult and the current head of the family, after all. If, that is, he could figure out exactly what it 

was he wanted.

Yes, Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was running out of excuses, and fast.

Which was why he held desperately onto the belief that Lord Gloria wasn’t seriously in love with him, that he only kept 

pursuing him because he didn’t want to admit defeat. “Everything I want, I always get” was the Earl’s motto, but he 

invariably seemed to lose interest in the things he ‘wanted’ once he got them. At first, Klaus was convinced the same thing 

would happen with him, should he yield to the Earl’s advances. He had even considered for a time to let Dorian ‘catch’ him 

so that he would lose interest and move on. But his pride had not let him; he refused to sacrifice his own body to another 

man’s whim, and besides, at the time the idea of intimacy of any kind was still abhorrent to him. And later…when it was not 

so abhorrent, he still could not do it, because he was scared. Scared to find out that, to Dorian, he was a whim after all.

For after having witnessed Eroica’s tireless devotion to him time and again, he had begun wondering whether the Earl might 

actually be seriously in love with him. The things he had done for Klaus…one simply does not jump onto airborne helicopters 

or into freezing lakes just for a whim. Or tolerate insults, threats and even blows for years on end. It was impossible not 

to second-guess his earlier opinion. But more than that, he _wanted_ it to be true…he wanted to believe that there was 

someone out there who could actually love him. Klaus had never been loved, because no one had dared fall in love with him. 

All women that had come on to him, either because of his looks or because of his status, had been invariably scared off 

after a few glares and harsh words. No one but Eroica had had the nerve to still love him even after his innumerable 

rejections. That is, if he was serious about it. Because if he wasn’t…if he was merely after another conquest for his list 

of trophies…then Klaus afterwards would be truly unable to trust anyone or hold onto any hope for the future. At least, the 

way things were now, he could still afford the luxury of dreaming.

A cruel irony indeed. Iron Klaus, the man of steel who had faced down the most dangerous people in the world without even a 

trace of fear, was scared to death of being tossed aside by a British queer.

But there was no way around it, which was why the Major was determined to keep resisting Eroica no matter what. It wasn’t 

that difficult either; over time it had become sort of a conditioned reflex. A pattern. Dorian would flirt with him, he 

would fly into a rage and mistreat him, Dorian would be hurt, he would feel like an asshole and try to make it up to the 

Earl a bit, and then the Earl would be captivated all over again and the cycle would begin anew. A real vicious circle if 

ever there was one, and they were both stuck inside it unless one of them did something to break the pattern. But it didn’t 

look like Eroica had any such intention, and Klaus, fearful of what a change might bring, could not bring himself to do 

anything.

“Verdammt”, he whispered to himself. “I must be the biggest wuss in all of recorded history”.

Then he sighed and resolutely closed his eyes. Even if he was the biggest wuss in all of recorded history, he still had a 

job to do and needed to replenish his energy. He ordered himself sternly to go to sleep, and fortunately, this time he 

succeeded.


	2. A new mission

Chapter 2 – A new mission

 

Klaus tacitly cursed for perhaps the hundredth time the Yanks and their stupidity. Those damned imbeciles had no problem 

trampling on every civil right there was, but would never even consider restricting the right to wield a gun. The Major 

liked guns as much as the next person – okay, _a lot more_ than the next person – but in the hands of trained and duty-bound 

soldiers like himself, not deranged schoolboys or homicidal fanatics. How come the Yanks could not see the logic in that 

was beyond his comprehension.

It was about a month later, and the Chief had summoned him to inform him of his new mission. For once, the perverted old 

coot actually sounded serious.

“This is big, Eberbach”, continued the Chief. “If we obtain solid proof that this extremist faction of the National Rifle 

Association is secretly financing _Mein Kampf_ , not only will we cripple those Neo-Nazi bastards, but it will be a great 

opportunity for the president of the United States to finally implement his Gun Control Act. He will owe us big time for 

that.”

The Major nodded approvingly. _Mein Kampf_ was a relatively new Neo-Nazi group that had emerged a while ago in America. 

Despite its brief history, it had already managed to pull off some rather alarming terrorist attacks. The nature of the 

attacks indicated that the group had plentiful financial resources, which was rather out of the norm. It had taken 

considerable time to track down the money source, but finally NATO got some leads that seemed to point towards certain 

highly-positioned members of the NRA, well known for their rather extreme views about racial discriminations. If they got 

proof of that, the NRA would have no choice but to quit opposing the Gun Control Act the president wanted to implement for 

some time now. An organization that advocates the use of weapons simply cannot afford to be connected, even remotely, to 

terrorist groups. And of course the financial support of _Mein Kampf_ would be cut off, leaving them practically dead in the 

water and making the task of putting them behind bars a lot easier. 

“Was the NRA board of directors notified about this?” he asked.

“No, we haven’t informed them”, said the Chief. “It’s a given that they would officially deny everything, they would have 

to be out of their minds to sanction something like that. In all probability, most of them probably know nothing about it. 

But we can’t rule out the possibility that a few might know or suspect something – and we should assume they will do 

anything in their power to sweep this whole affair under the carpet. It would be a great blow for their public image if 

such a story came out.”

That made sense. If anyone of the 76 directors of the NRA board knew something about the covert financing, even the remote 

possibility of exposure would prompt them to warn the actual culprits to destroy all evidence. It was of the utmost 

importance to get the information quickly and discreetly. Fortunately, they had a pretty good idea about its location. It 

was in an office building owned by the NRA in Dallas, which was used for storage of confidential documents. It seemed that 

the DVD with the information about the illicit transactions was hidden among some irrelevant documents inside the main 

vault. 

“You will have to use Eroica”, continued the Chief. This time there was no sadistic glee in his voice; he was simply 

stating a fact. “The security system is state of the art, and aside from breaking in, you will have to put it precisely 

back in order after making a copy of the DVD. The president needs the element of surprise on his side, so the later they 

find out about the break-in the better. He is the only one who can pull this one off.”

 _Just my luck,_ thought the Major. He knew what the Chief said was true; nobody but Eroica could crack such an elaborate 

security system and then put it back together again in such a limited amount of time. He didn’t even bother to argue, and 

simply nodded his head. The Chief raised an eyebrow at this unusual display of docility, but wisely chose not to press the 

matter. 

“One last thing, Eberbach”, he said gravely. “You should keep in mind that the CIA has no clue about this operation, and 

they must not find out. The NRA has a lot of leverage within the Agency. There is no guarantee that the extremist faction 

doesn’t have inside men in the CIA. That is why the president requested the aid of NATO Intelligence for this assignment, 

rather than the American security organizations.”

The Major gave a derisive snort. Really, those CIA agents. Not only they were incompetent, but possibly with divided 

loyalties as well. Not that he expected any better from an organization that actually allowed people like Steamroller Dick 

into its ranks. Nevertheless, the fact that he would have to sneak behind the back of the CIA greatly complicated this 

mission. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it; he was Iron Klaus after all, but it would make his job that much harder. As if 

working again with Eroica wasn’t hard enough.


	3. Preparations

Chapter 3 – Preparations 

 

They were in the main room of the safe house in Dallas, going over the details of the mission one last time. It was late 

afternoon of a hot summer day, and they were waiting for the cover of darkness before moving out. The day had been 

unbearably hot and humid; used to the cooler climate of Germany, the alphabets were sweating profusely. Even the Major was 

bothered by the heat, even though he valiantly refused to let it show. Heat and cold were a matter of discipline, after 

all.

“Okay, gather round,” ordered the Major, summoning the men around a blueprint set on a large table. Aside from the 

alphabets, there was only Eroica and three of his men, Bonham and the twins, John-Paul and Jonesy. As far as the Major was 

concerned, the only bright spot so far was that the Earl’s creepy accountant James, a.k.a ‘the stingy bug’, had remained in 

England. It seemed that some fellow was contesting the ownership of Castle Gloria, claiming that he was an illegitimate 

child of the late Earl of Gloria. A fraud, no doubt; Dorian’s father was such a flaming queen that it was almost a miracle 

he managed to have sex with his lawful wife enough times to produce four children. There is no way he would sleep with 

another woman voluntarily. Still, the stingy bug decided to stay behind, determined to fight tooth and nail to protect his 

master’s property. Klaus actually felt a bit sorry for the poor conman; he had probably no idea what an ordeal he was in 

for.

“Let’s go over the plan once again. There are only two entrances in the building, the main one and the one in the back 

alley. Our point of entry is at the back. Keep in mind there are security cameras in both entrances, as well as on every 

floor. We can’t disable them, because that will alert the security guards. Eroica, that’s where your men come in.”  
Bonham leaned forward. “We got the fake images ready, Major. As soon as milord bypasses the entrance lock, we will put them 

in place.”

The Major nodded approvingly and continued, “We will follow the route we decided on yesterday. We got the guards’ patrol 

rounds down, so if all goes well we shouldn’t run into anyone. The vault room is on the third floor, right in the middle of 

the central corridor. We will reach it from the right staircase; this will be also our escape route.”

He continued by repeating which alphabets would be covering the lifts and other staircases. He himself, as well as A, B and 

C would be in charge of covering Eroica and his men as they worked. Agent K would be with them with a laptop, to make a 

copy of the DVD (Eroica could not copy a DVD if his life depended on it). Then everything would be put back in place, 

Eroica would put the security system of the vault back together, and they would retreat the way they came, putting the 

locks and alarms back in place as they went. There was a considerable amount of them, so they would have to work really 

fast to escape being noticed by the patrolling guards.

“Okay then, get your gear together.” Just before they dispersed, the Major thought of something. “Eroica,” he called. The 

Earl turned around and walked back, beaming at him and fluttering his eyelashes. 

“You wanted something, my love?” The Major clenched his teeth, making a real effort to remain calm. Damn it all, couldn’t 

that idiot be serious for once? He walked over to a pile of bulletproof vests laying in a corner and tossed one to the 

Earl. He had put one on himself. Normally, he didn’t bother with them, but those NRA people were most likely excellent 

shots. It would be unwise to break into a building full of them without any protection. “Put this on.”

“Aww, darling, do I have to?” the Earl pouted. “I’m afraid it will hinder my movements.”

“If you can prance around in women’s dresses and corsets, this vest can hardly be a problem,” retorted the Major. He was 

getting more pissed by the second.

“And the design is so… _lame._ Those military accessories don’t have a _shred_ of elegance.” Eroica gave the vest a contemptuous 

look.

The Major could actually feel the last threads of his patience snap. Here he was trying to show some concern over Eroica’s 

safety, and all that twit could do was act like some spoiled princess. He grabbed the vest and shoved it hard onto the 

Earl’s chest, then said in a tone of voice that usually made his subordinates have sudden yearnings for the Alaskan 

wilderness: “Put. The. Fucking. Vest. On. Now.” 

Eroica stared at him wide-eyed for a few seconds, then gave an audible gasp. “Oh, my dearest Major,” he breathed softly, “I 

hadn’t realized you worry so much about me…”

“Don’t be an idiot,” snapped the Major. “We can’t have you getting shot; you’re the only one who can work the security 

system. Now stop spouting nonsense and do as you are told.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” replied Eroica mockingly, and took the vest from him. The Major barked to the others, “We set out at 1100 

p.m. sharp. Make sure you’re ready,” then turned around and stomped out of the room. 

As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. Verdammt, this was 

definitely not getting any easier. He didn’t even know any more how longer would he be able to keep his real feelings 

hidden under the guise of anger. The wall he had built around his heart these days felt more like a dam; emotions he 

thought he could never have were building up more and more, threatening to overflow at any moment. And if the dam should 

break – more like, _when_ it should break, – what would become of him?

Klaus forced himself to breathe regularly and think of nothing in order to clear his mind. He had a mission; nothing 

should be allowed to interfere with it. His personal troubles would have to wait, at least until the night was over.


	4. Mortal Peril

Chapter 4 – Mortal Peril

 

The Major was crouching behind a big decorative flower pot in the corridor of the vault room, with agents A, B and C in 

similar positions near the vault door. His eyes were trained on Eroica working dexterously on the vault locks. So far the 

operation had gone without a hitch. Eroica had cracked the vault in record time, the DVD had been copied, and now he was in 

the process of putting the security system back in place. This, however, had proved a bit trickier than they had first 

thought. There was a series of locks and combinations that needed to be set in a very precise order, because apparently 

there was a secondary alarm that would be triggered not only if one combination was wrong, but also if the sequence of 

security systems was not followed to the letter. 

The Major glanced at his watch. 1.08 am. The patrolling guard was supposed to pass through that corridor at 1.15. At this 

rate, they were cutting it pretty close.

“Eroica! Are you done yet? You only got six more minutes!” hissed the Major. In reality, it was seven minutes, but they 

needed one minute to make their retreat.

“This is delicate work, Major! Don’t rush me!” Eroica actually sounded stressed, noted the Major with a hint of worry. His 

long, sensitive fingers were working more swiftly than ever before, and there was a trace of perspiration on his forehead. 

_I hope this doesn’t prove to be too much for him,_ thought the Major. He had never seen Eroica bested by a lock before, but 

cracking one and putting it back together were two entirely different things. Not to mention the limited time window.

Then suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the silence. A moment later, it was followed by a full-blown shoot-out. The 

shots came from the left staircase, where agents L, M and P were positioned. Cursing in German, the Major grabbed his 

radio. Good thing he had thought they might need intercom.

“L! What the hell’s going on there?” he yelled.

“I don’t know, Major! A guard came through here, even though it wasn’t time yet, and he spotted us. We took him out, but he 

managed to take a shot at us, and that alerted the others!”

“Why didn’t you morons take him out before he could shoot?!” bellowed the Major, livid. He was _so_ going to send those three 

incompetents to Alaska, but he had to get them out of there in one piece first.

“Listen carefully,” he said, forcing his voice to stay calm. “Keep them busy for a bit if you can, but _don’t_ let yourselves 

run out of ammo. Make your way back here, and try not to get shot! Everyone else, regroup! As soon as we’re all here, we’re 

leaving!” He turned to Eroica. “Please tell me you’re done here.” The surprise element had been shot to hell, but if Eroica 

managed to put the vault security system exactly as it was, there was a chance the guards would think the break-in had been 

foiled, since nothing would be missing from the vault.

“Getting there, Major, getting there,” said Eroica through gritted teeth. The gunshots seemed much closer now; the agents 

would be reaching them any minute now, with the security guards hard at their heels. Never before had the Major admired 

Eroica’s competence as he had that night. Paying no heed to the shots being fired ever closer, he remained absolutely 

focused, slender fingers literally flying about buttons and levers. There was no one like him. 

Agents L, M and P finally appeared, followed closely by three security guards. They took cover about ten metres away from 

the Major’s position, but the guards pinned them there, and they could not quite reach the rest. All other agents had 

already regrouped; all that remained was to shake off these three guards and get out before any more arrived.

Just then, Eroica whistled to get his attention and gave him the thumbs up. The Major nodded, and signaled him to get out 

of there and head for the right staircase. Eroica waited until the agents had him covered, and made a dash for it. But just 

as he was making a turn for the staircase, a shot rang out, and Dorian fell without a sound.

 

The Major’s body started to move before he even realized it. Throwing caution to the wind, he bounded out of cover, his 

face a mask of frenzied rage and the Magnum in his hand spitting fire. In three seconds flat, he had closed the distance 

between themselves and the guards, having taken out in the meantime two of them, one shot through the wrist, one in the 

kneecap. The third one didn’t even attempt to shoot; he dropped his gun and put his hands over his head, screaming in 

terror. He was hardly to blame; very few men in the world would have endured the sight of Iron Klaus pouncing upon them 

like an enraged tiger without fainting on the spot. 

The Major loomed above him for a second, wrathful and terrifying like an avenging angel. Then he hit him over the head with 

the handle of his gun, and the guard dropped like a felled tree.

His agents were staring at him, dumbfounded. “What are you cretins standing there for?! Get your asses over here and secure 

them!” As soon as some of the alphabets hurried over, he rushed back to where Eroica had fallen, A, B and G following 

behind him. 

The Earl lay on his back quite still, and because of the bulletproof vest it was hard to see whether he was breathing. 

There was a hole in his vest, directly over the heart.

Klaus felt his very blood turn into ice in his veins. Without pausing to think, he grabbed hold of the vest’s straps and 

tore them as if they were made of tissue. There didn’t seem to be any blood underneath the vest, but Klaus did not stop 

there. He ripped Dorian’s tight-fitting catsuit in one powerful move, exposing the thief’s chest. There was a nasty bruise 

on the left side soiling the creamy white skin, but no visible wound. Klaus put his hand over the Earl’s heart, and was 

relieved to find a faint pulse. Then he realized what he was doing, and recoiled as if a snake had bitten him. Scheisse. If 

the fop ever found out that he, the Major, had torn his catsuit open and fondled his chest, he’d never hear the end of it. 

He turned to A, B and G, transfixing them with a glare that made seasoned KGB agents long for the relative safety of a 

Siberian gulag. “I trust that you’ve already forgotten what just happened, gentlemen, but if you still happen to remember 

something I’d be happy to help you forget.”

A, B and G gestured frantically that they had most definitely forgotten everything. “Gut. Take him and get going, I’ll 

cover you.” He signaled to the rest of the agents, and they all made a swift exit. Not a moment too soon, either, because 

they could hear the other guards who had found their wounded colleagues chasing after them. But by then they were out of 

the building, and had reached the getaway cars.

“Bloody hell! Milord…what happened? Is he…” Bonham stammered, leaping out of the car. Eroica’s men had retreated after 

having place the fake images for the security cameras, and were waiting for them in the car.

“He’s alive. Now take us back to the safe house, and step on it!” barked the Major. Bonham got back to the driver’s seat 

without a word. Eroica was placed in the back seat, and Klaus sat beside him, eyeing him with growing anxiety. Dorian’s 

heart was still beating – he was constantly checking his pulse – but he showed no sign of regaining consciousness. Klaus 

was getting seriously worried about his condition. He had not found any external wounds, but there was such a thing as 

internal bleeding. Klaus decided that if the thief had not come to by the time they reached the safe house, he would take 

him to the nearest hospital and to hell with secrecy. All of a sudden, the Major realized something; from the moment he had 

seen Dorian fall onwards, he had not spared a single thought about his mission.

Dorian came round when they were about halfway to the safe house. His eyelids twitched, and a slight groan escaped him. His 

bright blue eyes drifted a bit before focusing; he seemed to be a bit groggy. Making an effort, he whispered faintly, 

“Where…am I?”

“In the car,” answered the Major. “We’re headed back.” Eroica tried to sit up, but a sharp pain across his chest and a firm 

hand on his shoulder prevented him. “Don’t try to move. You took a shot at the heart. The vest stopped the bullet, but the 

impact knocked you out.” Out of the corner of his eye, the Major saw Bonham’s face turn white as a sheet. “There don’t seem 

to be any serious wounds,” he added hastily. “We’ll check more thoroughly at the safe house, but I bet you’ll be up and 

about soon enough. Now lie still.”

“Thank you, Major. I think…I’ll do just that,” the thief said slowly. The blue eyes started to close again, when all of a 

sudden they snapped open. “The mission?”

“We got the info,” the Major reassured him hastily. An odd sense of guilt came over him; who would have thought a day would 

come when Eroica would care more about his missions than himself. “And you managed to put the vault security system back 

together, so with any luck they’ll think we got away without taking anything.”

“That’s…good.” Eroica leaned back again and closed his eyes. For the remainder of the drive, the Major stared resolutely 

ahead, fearing that if Dorian happened to look at his eyes right now, he would know exactly how he felt. Shortly before 

they arrived, he heard the still shocked Bonham mutter under his breath, “Truly he’s got the devil’s own luck, milord he 

has. Let’s just hope he doesn’t spend it all on that frigid –” He stopped short, darting an angry glance at the Major. 

Klaus pretended not to see it; he could not really argue, since he himself thought pretty much the same thing.


	5. Decision

Chapter 5 – Decision 

 

Klaus leaned against the bathroom door, breathing hard. For once, even his iron nerves had reached their limit. As soon as 

they got to the safe house and ascertained that Eroica was not in any immediate danger, the Major excused himself to the 

bathroom as soon as he got the chance, leaving his agents to handle the rest. 

He and Eroica had been in more dangerous situations than he cared to remember, but tonight…it was different. For a few 

horrifying moments, he was certain that Dorian was dead. And he _would_ have been dead if he didn’t have that vest on. Klaus 

shuddered, struggling with all his might not to fall apart right there. Dorian…dead. The mere thought of that threatened to 

crush him.

The Major had trained himself hard not to think about the possibility of himself or one of his men dying during a mission. 

Such thoughts were never helpful in his line of work. Maybe that was why, even though he had seen Eroica in a number of 

tough situations before, it had never occurred to him that he could actually die. He had contemplated the possibility of 

the Earl finding a new love interest, or falling out of love with him, or being captured by the Interpol. But never of 

dying.

Now, however, he could not stop thinking about just that, and the thought was unbearable. _Dorian might have died tonight._

And he would have died because of him, because there was no getting around the fact that, if not for him, Dorian would 

never have been involved in the mortally perilous world of espionage. Granted, his own profession wasn’t exactly peaceful, 

but museum and gallery security guards weren’t nearly as dangerous as spies and assassins.

But the worst of it all was – that he could have died thinking that Klaus hated him. He could have died without knowing how 

the Major really felt about him. Klaus wasn’t sure _what_ it was he felt about Dorian, but it sure as hell wasn’t hate, this 

much he knew. And his whole being rejected the idea of Dorian dying while still in the dark. If there was one thing he had 

learnt from this danger-filled life of his, it was that death was the one thing he could not bend to his will. No one, not 

even Iron Klaus, could redeem himself to a dead man.

Suddenly, all his previous fears seemed insignificant. He had thought that being tossed aside by Dorian scared him the 

most; now he discovered that Dorian dying before having the chance to toss him aside scared him the most.

Well, no more. It was high time he stopped running and faced his demons. Klaus raised his head proudly and clenched his 

fists, his emerald eyes blazing like wildfire. Dorian would get his chance that very night, he decided. And if he wanted to 

get away from him later…well, he’d like to see him try it. _Nobody_ gets away from Iron Klaus. “Nobody escapes once he’s 

hated by me,” he had said once. _Well, you know what? Nobody escapes once he’s loved by me either._

The Major marched to the main room where his agents were assembled. Dorian was upstairs in his bedroom, resting, and his 

men had retired for the night after they had seen to his needs. The Major curtly asked his agents to report; apparently all 

loose ends of the mission had been taken care of and everything was ready for their departure tomorrow at noon. After 

having heard every report, the Major gave a few short instructions, and then ordered the alphabets in his most menacing 

tone not to disturb him until tomorrow at ten, unless it was something _really_ important. Without any other explanation, he 

went out and up the stairs straight to the Earl’s bedroom, leaving the intimidated alphabets staring at his retreating 

back.

“Wh…what was that about?” wondered B aloud, astonished. The Major had never before required private time while on a 

mission.

The effeminate G, who was rather more perceptive than the rest in these matters, dramatically brought his hands to his 

mouth and drew in a breath. “Don’t tell me…” he whispered, but could not bring himself to complete the sentence.

An uneasy silence hovered among the alphabets for several minutes, until it was finally broken by Z, who cleared his throat 

to get his colleagues’ attention.

“Gentlemen,” he said in a significantly more serious tone than usually, “it is my opinion that whatever happens up there 

from here on out,” – he gestured towards Lord Gloria’s bedroom – “is strictly on a need-to-know basis. And we don’t need to 

know.”

For one long minute, the rest of the alphabets just stared at him. Then, they nodded in agreement, and scattered about the 

room, each of them finding something to keep themselves _very_ occupied until the next morning.


	6. Conquest

Chapter 6 – Conquest 

 

Dorian lay on the bed with his eyes closed, his head propped up by several pillows. He wanted to sleep, but somehow he 

couldn’t calm his heart enough to fall asleep. The pain in his chest was dulled thanks to the painkillers he had taken, but 

he felt uneasy…restless. Probably an aftereffect of his close brush with death. Tonight…had been a really close call.

If Klaus had not forced him to wear the vest…if he had just said indifferently, “Do what you want”, he might not have worn 

it just to spite him…and he would be dead now. What a way to die, too. Not even over some priceless work of art. Would his 

death even mean anything?

He sighed wearily. For that matter, all his efforts of many years to win the Major’s heart, did they mean anything? So much 

suffering, so many dangers, and never a kind word in return. Much as he refused to admit defeat, there were times such as 

now, when he wondered if it was worth it after all. If _he_ was worth it.

However, his black mood lasted only a few moments. He shook his head violently to make the discouraging thoughts go away, 

making his luminous golden curls dance around in the process.

“No,” he said aloud, surprised at the sound of his own voice. “He’s worth it. All of it. And even if he wasn’t…it wouldn’t 

matter. Because I love him.”

Dorian Red Gloria had fancied himself in love many times before Fate crossed his path with that of Iron Klaus. The objects 

of his affections were pretty much the type of Caesar Gabriel: sweet, youthful, innocent…and completely defenseless against 

his charm. The other thing they had in common was that he never seemed to build a lasting relationship with any of them. He 

sincerely loved them with all his heart, was always affectionate and caring with them, and never did anything to hurt their 

feelings; but invariably, after a short time with them, he just drifted away, until someone else caught his eye. He could 

catch anyone he wanted all right, but seemed unable to keep himself attached to anyone. Until he met Iron Klaus.

The Major was the complete opposite of his previous love interests. First of all, he was no boy, but a man among men, 

tough, unyielding, indomitable. Dorian always had the upper hand in his previous relationships, but Klaus had twisted him 

around his little finger without even trying. He was anything but innocent, despite his inexperience in sex matters; a 

shrewd, cunning, scheming man who had pulled a fast one on the one and only Eroica quite a few times, a feat no one else in 

the world could boast of. And he was not sweet. Cool, yes, handsome, yes, noble, yes, but most certainly _not_ sweet.

At first Dorian had wondered what on earth possessed him to fall so desperately in love with a man so clearly different 

from his type, so brusque, so…unaccommodating. It took him years to realize that the Major was, in fact, exactly the type 

who could make him fall in love for real, that before him, what he had felt was not love, but more like…attraction. He had 

been attracted to these boys, the same way he had been attracted to the paintings he coveted. But his first and only true, 

genuine, mind-blowing, heart-wrenching love was Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach and no one else.

And the reason for that was pretty simple after all. The Major had character. He was not just decorative eye-candy. He was 

a man of strong convictions, likes and dislikes, and strong passions too – Dorian was sure of it, even though his beloved 

German iceberg would sooner shoot himself in the foot than admit interest in ‘foppish sentimentalities’. There were so many 

things to respect, admire and adore about him besides his looks. Too bad it was _because_ of some of these things that he had 

yet to have his feelings reciprocated.

So, was this chase ever going to end? Dorian asked himself that question for the umpteenth time, and as always, he couldn’t 

answer. On one hand, he knew, or more like, he could feel it in his bones, that the Major wasn’t as indifferent towards him 

as he let on. It wasn’t merely wishful thinking on his part, there were signs – little things, gestures, expressions – that 

gave him conviction that there _were_ feelings for him deep inside the Major’s heart. On the other hand, the man was possibly 

the worst case of self-restraint in the world. Dorian was well aware that, with his stubbornness, he was perfectly capable 

of living out his entire life in denial. As long as he considered something a matter of dignity or duty, he would not budge 

one inch. Dorian was honestly at a loss how to make him see that falling in love did not make him any less of a man.

Just as he was brooding over his darling pigheaded Major and everything he had endured because of him, a familiar pounding 

on his door interrupted his thoughts. _Oh dear, not now,_ he thought dejectedly. He always rejoiced to see the Major, but 

wasn’t really in the mood to argue with him at the moment. He didn’t answer, hoping that the Major would think he was 

asleep and leave. But after a few seconds he heard the pounding again, this time accompanied by the Major’s deep voice: 

“Dorian. Open up.”

For a moment, the Earl stared fixedly at the wall opposite his bed. Something was wrong; something was very out of place, 

but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Then realization hit him like a punch in the gut: _Klaus had called him by his first_

_name._

He stumbled out of bed as fast as he could and rushed to the door. He had barely turned the handle when it was flung open, 

and the Major marched straight up to him, with a ferocious glint in his eyes the likes of which Dorian had never seen 

before. Dorian found himself retreating unconsciously, till his back hit the wall. The Major grabbed him by both shoulders, 

pinning him still. He tried to struggle against it, only to find that he was completely unable to move. He was no weakling, 

but the Major’s strength was on a completely different level. What’s more, he seemed not just angry, but positively 

seething with fury. _And I don't even know what the blazes I did this time. Did something happen while I was unconscious?_ At any rate, he had to at least try reasoning with Klaus. The situation right now was a lot more potentially dangerous to his health than the bullet earlier.

“M – Major? Are you angry with me?” Stupid question really, the man was literally steaming at the ears, but he had to start 

somewhere.

“Yes.” The short terse reply frightened him even more; when Klaus did not vent his anger with volleys of verbal abuse, it 

usually meant he was going to vent it in considerably more painful ways. Dorian hastened to add, “Umm, I’m not really sure 

what I did, but whatever it was I apol – ” 

He never got the chance to complete his phrase. In an instant, the Major was upon him, pressing him hard with his whole 

body against the wall, and kissing him fiercely. It was no ordinary kiss, he felt as if his whole mouth was being devoured. 

His mind went blank; he could not think of anything, do anything but feel that savage invasion into his mouth with all his 

senses. When the Major finally pulled back, he was dazed, weak in the knees and gasping for air. He tried to speak, but no 

words came out; all he could do was stare at those sharp green eyes, utterly ensnared. He did not even try to make sense 

out of what had just happened. When he saw the Major open his mouth to speak, he held his breath; somehow, he knew with 

every fiber of his being that his destiny was at stake at that moment. And Klaus spoke, and what he said was,

“You won, you crazy bastard. _You won._ ”

Dorian’s bright blue eyes opened wide, and he just gaped at him as if struck by lightning. Iron Klaus admitting defeat?! He 

would sooner believe that the sun was rising from the west, or that the Queen of England was a transvestite. But before he 

could properly register what he had heard, he was caught again in a fiery hailstorm of kisses. Klaus had him clasped in a 

steely embrace and was kissing him like a starved man, his breath and lips so hot he could literally feel them scalding his 

skin. When the Major paused for breath and loosened his grip a little, Dorian found it necessary to grab onto him with both 

hands so as not to fall over. Klaus brought his face really close to Dorian’s, and Dorian could now see that the glint in 

his eyes was not fury as he had thought, but more like…hunger? He was still hesitating on what to say, when Klaus tightened 

his grip around his waist again, and decreed in a firm, authoritative tone: “You’re mine. Now and forever, you got it?”

It sounded more like a threat than a declaration of love, but Dorian wasn’t going to sweat the details now. Klaus had come 

to take possession of him, that was all that mattered. He had finally come to ask for his heart, and Dorian knew what he 

had to do now, he had always known ever since he first set eyes on the Major. He would give him his heart, just like that. 

Without questions, or doubts, or teasing, or gloating. Just like that. He looked into his eyes steadily, and answered 

simply “I do.” Then, silently thanking whatever mysterious powers had brought about this miracle, he forced his hands to 

move upwards. He touched Klaus’ face ever so lightly with his fingertips, silky black strands of hair caressing his 

fingers, and Klaus did not flinch away from his touch, no, he just stood there staring into his eyes, expectantly. And 

Dorian slowly, deliberately, allowed himself to lean forward and kiss him very softly on the lips, thus sealing their 

union.

Klaus kissed him back, calmly this time, as if disarmed by Dorian’s serene acquiescence. They kissed again and again, 

hesitantly at first, then more boldly. Klaus’ tongue flickered against Dorian’s lips, seeking entry, and Dorian was only 

too happy to invite him in. His energy and passion that had left him temporarily because of the shock, now came back with a 

vengeance. He hugged Klaus back and let his hands travel up and down on his firm back, enjoying the feel of those sculpted 

muscles. He yearned to undress him and feel his bare skin, too, but resolved not to rush things, fearing that Klaus might 

freak out and change his mind. 

But he needn’t have worried; there was no stopping Klaus now. The dam in his soul had finally come crashing down, and all 

his pent-up emotions and desires were gushing out, demanding to be fulfilled. With a hint of his earlier ferociousness, the 

Major grasped Dorian’s pajama jacket and ripped it to shreds. His pants and underwear followed suit a few moments later, 

leaving him stark naked. Dorian was less forceful, but no less efficient. His nimble fingers disposed of buttons and 

zippers in a matter of seconds, and before long he could finally admire his Major in all his masculine magnificence. For a 

few seemingly endless moments, the two men just stood there gazing at each other, their faces flushed, their breaths 

ragged. Then they embraced each other tightly, and fell simultaneously on the bed. 

Dorian had always assumed he would have to take the lead when the Major finally gave in; he was, after all, the experienced 

one. Only now did he realize the extent of his mistake. The Major had not come to him with the slightest intention of 

‘giving in’; he had come to conquer. Moreover, much to his surprise, he realized that the Major did not seem hesitant or 

insecure at all; his moves were rough and unpracticed, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. 

Indeed, Klaus had practically no real experience, but he had years of fantasizing to fall back on. Besides, like any good 

soldier, he had learnt to trust his instincts when in an uncertain situation. And his instincts told him that the thing to 

do now was to let loose and do whatever felt right. He let his hands explore Dorian’s body, stroking and caressing and 

pinching and squeezing wherever he wanted – which was practically everywhere. At some point, the Earl felt, considerably 

astonished, that his bottom was being kneaded rather persistently by a pair of strong hands. He quickly got over his 

astonishment, however, and lost no time in returning the favour. “I always give as good as I get, darling,” was his answer 

to the surprised look he received.

For some reason his cheeky reply riled up the Major, who pinned his arms down and started teasing him with his mouth this 

time. Either he was a natural, or Dorian was too easily excited, because not too long after that he was moaning helplessly. 

“Klaus…please…” he murmured.

“Please what?” The jade eyes glimmered provocatively.

“Please…touch me.” _He knows what that's supposed to mean, right?_

“Nein. Not I,” said the Major flatly. Abruptly, he let go of Dorian and fell on his side next to him. Dorian felt as if 

he’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. He wondered frantically what he had done wrong and how to restore the mood, 

when he noticed a slight but definitely mischievous smirk on the Major’s lips. A second later, Klaus grabbed his wrist and 

closed his hand around both their excited members. “ _You_ get _me_ off,” he ordered.

For a few seconds, Dorian stared at him dumbfounded, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Being bossed around by 

Klaus like that aroused him beyond belief; it was so very like his darling to be masterful. A meek and submissive Major 

would be…just plain wrong. On the other hand, the trick the Major had just played on him had rattled his pride 

considerably. _Getting cocky, aren’t we, Major dear, to make fun of a Peer of the Realm like that. I swear I’ll get you back for this before the night is over!_ But he wasn’t inclined to spoil things by arguing, so he resolved to play along for now. “As you command, Major, sir,” he replied in mock submission, and started stroking in a way only an expert could.

Undoubtedly, he was an expert, because in no time the Major was all flushed and breathing hard, looking just about ready to 

explode. Dorian was pretty excited himself, but he wasn’t about to finish things off, not that way at least. Just before 

reaching the point of no return, he let go and said cheerfully, “All right, that’s enough.”

It was now Klaus’ turn to look at him dumbfounded, and Dorian wasn’t entirely able to suppress a grin of satisfaction. _There, how do you like that now?_

He had intended to tease the Major a bit more, but those green eyes were drawing him in, and he found himself unable to resist them. _Oh, what the hell, I was never one for tormenting people anyway._ He leaned closer, until his lips almost touched the Major’s ear, and whispered, “It is our first time, my love, and I want…to feel you inside me.”

Klaus certainly didn’t wait to be told twice. He pounced on the Earl again with that hungry look in his eyes, spread his 

legs open, and positioned himself for entry. Just then Dorian realized what was about to happen, and his eyes widened in 

terror. _Don’t tell me he means to go in just like that?_ Panicking completely, he cried out in alarm, “No!”

Klaus pulled back immediately, and the hurt look on his face pierced right through Dorian’s heart. _Oh no, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings like that, but what was he thinking?_ Then it hit him: _Balls, I totally forgot. It’s his first time; he doesn’t know how it’s done._

Dorian sat up in a flash and threw his arms passionately around the Major. “Oh, do forgive me, darling, I didn’t mean it 

that way…but if you go in just like that, you’ll break me apart! I have to get prepared first, that’s all!”

To his immense relief, he saw the hurt look in Klaus’ eyes go away, replaced by curiosity. “Prepared? How?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Dorian reached for his nightstand drawer, pulling out a tube of lubricant. He applied some on Klaus’ 

lower half, eliciting a moan of pleasure in the process. Then, just as he was going to put some more on his hand, an idea 

occurred to him. Tilting his head to the side, he asked playfully, “Unless…you’d rather do it yourself?”

“What must I do?” asked the Major, all serious. Dorian had to struggle to stifle back a laugh; his sweetheart looked every 

bit as if he was receiving instructions for a mission. “Give me your hand.”

Klaus held out his hand obediently – his gun hand, Dorian noticed. Oh, how many times he had wished he could be that gun. 

To be carried around pressed close to the Major’s heart; to be squeezed by his fingers, till he had emptied all his load; 

to be taken apart and have his every nook and cranny cleaned and oiled by those hands…Lord Gloria had never dreamed that a 

gun could possibly be such good material for fantasizing. Iron Klaus had certainly opened his eyes to a whole lot of 

hitherto unknown pleasures.

“What are you spacing out and grinning like an idiot for?” the Major’s gruff voice abruptly brought him out of his reverie. 

It was all he could do to keep himself from laughing aloud when he answered, “Your gun.”

“Liar. I know that look. You were having perverted fantasies again,” grumbled the Major. This time, Dorian could not help 

laughing happily. “Why bother having fantasies, dearest, when I have the real thing right in front of me? Now, see here.” 

He applied some more lubricant on Klaus’ hand, then lay on his back, guiding the hand he was holding towards his rear. 

“First, you put one finger in. Move it around, to loosen the opening, and at the same time, try to find a sort of rough 

spot.” The Major followed his instructions to the letter, and sure enough, after a few minutes, Dorian arched his body, 

crying out ecstatically, “Yes! That’s it, right there!”

“So…what now?” asked Klaus, still pressing the spot with his finger, marveling at Dorian’s intense reaction. Seeing his 

touch drive him crazy like that…he found it strangely stimulating. Struggling to speak in between his moans, the Earl 

gasped, “Then…you…put in…another finger…and then a third…and…when you feel…the opening…is loose enough…you may enter…aah!” 

Klaus did as he was told, taking his time to excite Dorian as much as possible. He found his expression right now, drowning 

in pleasure, downright intoxicating. Enchanted by those eyes, he almost forgot the next step, but fortunately Dorian was 

there to remind him, murmuring in a beseeching voice, “Klaus…I beg of you…take me now…”

Pulling himself forcefully from his dream world, the Major took position again and entered the Earl in one slow, steady 

move. “Ach…so schon…” The warmth and tightness he met was almost too much for him, but he persevered, determined to make 

this last as long as possible. After giving him a minute or two to get used to his size, he started thrusting slowly, 

aiming for the same spot he was teasing with his fingers. And of course, if there was one thing Iron Klaus could do really 

well, it was aiming. After just a few thrusts, Dorian was already shuddering uncontrollably, in the throes of an ecstasy he 

had never felt before. Completely enslaved to the burning pathos deep inside him, he begged again, “Please…faster…”

The Major stopped for a second and leaned above him to whisper in his ear, “Not yet. I’m going to take my time ravishing 

you.” His hot breath made Dorian’s skin tingle, and the Earl wondered if he was going to make it through the night with his 

sanity intact. The Major eyed him avidly from head to toe, as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he really couldn’t. The 

sapphire eyes gazing at him pleadingly, the soft voice calling out his name, the lithe body writhing under him…all of it. 

He wanted it all, to be his and his alone for all time.

Klaus continued at a maddeningly slow pace, using his hands and mouth to further arouse Dorian, driving him mad with 

desire. Eventually, his own lust started to get the better of him, and he unconsciously sped up. Feeling he could not last 

much longer, he decided to finish it with a bang. He slid his hands under the thief’s buttocks, heaving him to a sitting 

position, and whispered hoarsely, “Hold on to me.”

Dorian clutched at his shoulders and lifted his head to look at him. For a few seconds, their eyes locked, brilliant blue 

with sparkling green, and at that moment, they both knew they were sharing the most intimate bond imaginable. Then Klaus 

pulled Dorian to his chest for a passionate, breathtaking kiss, and while the Earl was still distracted trying to catch his 

breath, he lifted him effortlessly a little, then brought him down hard, literally impaling him on his manhood. Dorian let 

out a cry of unbridled ecstasy, then another, and another, as the Major repeated the act, first slowly, then faster and 

faster until both of them lost all track of reality. Finally, Dorian reached his limit, threw his head back in wild 

abandon, and climaxed in full force. Klaus felt his body tense against his own, and his muscles contract tightly around him 

as he spilled his load onto the both of them, and it was all he needed to bring him over the edge too. A minute later, he 

came as well, emptying himself inside Dorian. Still entangled in each other’s arms, the two men fell in a heap on the 

mattress, totally spent.

An hour later, they still lay on the bed, Klaus flat on his back, and Dorian cuddled close to him, his long golden curls 

sprawled across the Major’s chest. During that hour, they had done little besides wiping themselves off; they just lay 

there, basking in the afterglow of their passion. Neither of them felt inclined to break the comfortable silence, or rather 

they were both afraid of ruining the nice atmosphere by speaking. It was not often they could share such a purely peaceful 

moment as this. Eventually, it was Dorian who broke the silence, nuzzling like a cat against the Major’s neck. “Darling…

that was absolutely wonderful.”

“Danke. Fur mich auch.” Iron Klaus was nowhere near being poetic, but for Dorian, these simple words spoke volumes. For a 

while, he just gazed at his beloved in adoration, afraid to believe in his own happiness. All of a sudden, he was gripped 

by a fear that all of this was nothing but a dream. He was being paranoid, he knew it, but there it was. In an effort to 

let reality sink in, he propped himself up on his elbow and asked, “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but I just have to 

know: after all these years, why now?”

Klaus shifted uncomfortably. He had been dreading this question for some time now. What would Dorian think of him when he 

heard his reasoning? He might take offence, or be disgusted with him altogether. And yet, he had to answer truthfully; he 

had promised himself he would not hide any more. Neither Dorian nor he deserved that. 

“I…wanted to…for a long time.” He turned on his side to face his lover, who stared at him wide-eyed, expecting a lot of 

reasons, apparently, but not this frank statement. Dorian blinked in astonishment, and stammered, “B- but then – why? If 

you wanted this – if you wanted me – why did you avoid me like the plague all this time?”

“Because…I was afraid, I suppose.” It took all of Klaus’ willpower to continue looking into Dorian’s eyes unwaveringly. 

Admitting his innermost fears to another human being was probably one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his 

anything but easy life. But he knew he had to do it, and he never shrank away from what he had to do.

Dorian looked at him incredulously, and let out a small nervous giggle. “Afraid? You? Don’t be daft, dear; you’re not 

afraid of anything!”

“Well, I was.” _I still am,_ he thought, but chose not to say that out loud. “I feared that…once you got what you wanted…you would move on, leaving me behind…and I couldn’t take that. But after what happened tonight…I realized that there were even worse things than that.”

Dorian nodded, understanding what he meant, and his hand stole unconsciously towards the bruise on his left chest. It had 

started to throb a little again, which was to be expected after all this activity. Then the full meaning of Klaus’ words 

sank in, and he lifted his head abruptly in protest. “But why…why would you think that, after all those years I’ve been 

telling you I love you…” He stopped short, his words fading on his lips, and his face turned pale. “Oh, dear Lord. It’s my 

fault, isn’t it? Always teasing you, playing the fool, acting as if this – us – was some big game…when in reality it is the 

single most important thing in the world to me. No wonder I could not convince you to take me seriously. How could I not 

see that?”

“You couldn’t help being who you are,” pointed out the Major reasonably. “It is my fault as well, for not putting any faith 

in you. All my life I’ve learnt not to trust people, and we certainly weren’t very successful in earning each other’s 

trust, the two of us. But I’ve also learnt there are times when one must not be afraid to take a calculated risk.” He 

smiled faintly. “I guess this is one of them.”

Dorian’s face lit up with joy, and he threw himself forcefully into Klaus’ arms. “Klaus! Do you really mean it? You’re 

giving me a chance? Oh, my love, I swear you’ll never have cause to regret this. I know all too well I didn’t exactly 

behave myself in the past, but please, _please_ believe me when I say that ever since I fell in love with you I’ve never once 

thought of another man. You are the only one for me,” he declared passionately, squeezing the Major’s hands so tightly that 

Klaus winced in pain. Dorian loosened his grip a little, without letting go, stared deep into Klaus’ eyes and asked as if 

his very life depended on it: “Do you believe me?”

“I don’t have much of a choice _but_ to believe you,” Klaus answered calmly, facing him with a steadfast gaze. “I thought I 

didn’t need anyone in my life…but I just can’t imagine a life without you.” He smiled sheepishly. “There, you even got me 

saying mushy nonsense like that, what more do you want?”

“Nothing, my beloved, absolutely nothing. Right now I do think I’m the most blessed man on earth.” He nestled against Klaus 

again, looking away with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Oh, Klaus…to think we wasted all those years playing stupid war games 

when we could be like this. Such a pity…” he sighed and shook his head regretfully.

Klaus draped his arm around Dorian’s shoulders and pulled him close. With his free hand, he turned his chin towards his 

face, forcing him to look at the most tender and serious gaze he had ever seen in those green eyes. “Better late than 

never, meine Liebe,” he whispered affectionately, “We have the rest of our lives to make up for them,” and silenced him 

with a kiss.

THE END


End file.
